Of Energy and Carbon
by For the Kingdom
Summary: Nos4A2 shuts down and is found by a new friend who thinks he is a housebot, takes him home, and repairs him. And, though science tells us otherwise, energy isn't all that different from carbon.
1. C:1

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Nos-4-A2 hunched over a trash can rummaging through all the garbage. He tossed the rumpled papers out into the filthy Tradeworld alleyway. His only motivation was to find something to eat. Nos-4-A2 had been low on energy ever since he had been defeated by that annoying turncoat. _XL._ He gritted his fangs in anger at the thought of him. That medaling robot - he should have finished him off when he had the chance.

_"Defeat is unacceptable. It's not in my programming! Defeat is unacceptable. It's not in my programming!" _The words echoed in his head like haunting thoughts.

Defeat was not in his programming. He couldn't have been defeated! It was not possible!

_Juice..._ Nos-4-A2 plucked a dented, chrome canister from the garbage longingly only to have his hopes dashed. It was just a soda can! He thrust it out into the middle of the alleyway in disgust.

If he could not be defeated, then why had he been reduced to scrounging through garbage to find energy?

_"Defeat is unacceptable. Defeat is unacceptable."_ It wasn't in his programming, but he _was_, in fact, quite in a defeated state.

_"Defeat is unacceptable. Defeat is unacceptable." _He was defeated. But, defeat was not in his programing, so wasn't it logical that 'defeat' could not have possibly taken place?

Finally, Nos-4-A2's rusted chrome hand pulled out a battery. Lovely! Oh what luck! He bit into the battery - he would finally have a meal! As he sucked at the battery, and no energy tingled his fangs, the joy slowly bean to melt away. He kept his fangs planted and painfully closed his eyes. There was no energy in that battery, was there? It was dead. But at the same time he couldn't bring himself to let go just yet, maybe if he held on a little longer, he could get _something_ out of it.

With a silent sigh, he pulled his fangs out of the metal coating. It was no use. There was nothing left.

_"Defeat is unacceptable. Defeat is unacceptable."_

Defeat _was _acceptable. He feared this was the home stretch of his life. Until he had some power, there was nothing he could do.

The empty battery in his hand only mocked him of his downfall and he squeezed it harder and harder as his anger boiled, until finally he threw it as far and hard as he could.

It landed near the alley mouth along with his arm. Blasted thing. Was he falling apart now, too? Was this the same power-laden villain who had struck fear and respect into both the bad and the good? He glanced down at his dirty, scratched body, his shredded cape, his other arm and fingers - the shiny, smooth surface no more. He inched his tattered wings out, their magnificent energy surge gone. He held the end of one in his palm. They looked like bones; bones stuck together with glue and pinned to his back. It was a disgrace and he hung his head. 'Defeat is unacceptable.' Poppycock and nonsense. Why had Zurg put that into him? Well, one couldn't expect too much of Zurg, he supposed.

His attention was drawn away from his sorrows when he saw some punk nosing around the alleyway. That kid just snatched his arm!

Nos-4-A2 glided as fast as his low energy would allow towards the boy and gave his best threatening gesture.

"I am NOS-4-A2," he rasped through a crackling voice box. "And I am your doom!" He spread his wings far above his head and lifted his good arm into the air. He would have preferred sparks also, but maybe next time.

Sparks or no sparks, the kid looked down-right scared. Nos-4-A2 glowed with pride. Ha! He hadn't lost his hold after all!

He dropped the arm and ran.

"Stop in the name of the law!" A robot-policeman coming up the alley yelled racing towards the boy.

There was a short time of shame, but then his

predatory programming took over and instead of seeing the bot that stole his glory, he saw his next meal.

Nos-4-A2 pushed out of the way until the policeman was past him and then he lunged with a rattling screech, onto its back.

It was difficult with one arm, but he managed to stay on. He tried biting in several different spots but found the cop's shell well protected. Nos-4-A2 hoisted himself towards its neck. He was almost there when the cop, still in the chase, began batting him off.

"No, please! Just one bite!" Nos-4-A2 pleaded, his wings scraping against the cop's back trying to stay on. "I shan't drain it all, I promise!"

The cop sent one more good blow, and Nos-4-A2 fell to the ground, tumbling and skidding to a halt on the pavement. He lay in a heap for a while watching helplessly as his meal zoomed off with all the energy that could have been his before dragging his broken body home. On the way back to the sewers, he picked up his dismembered forearm thankful that he at least had some screws and a screwdriver back in his lair.

His chrome fingers scraped against the floor of the pipe as he drug himself down deep under the city. The dead shells of his earlier victims lining the walls seemed almost like pictures hung in a gallery reminding him of the good old times. Ah yes, the good times when he was on top of his game.

He pulled just to the end of the pipe since he no longer had the flight to go down into his lair. Nos-4-A2 reclined horizontally in the pipe and set to work slowly reattaching his arm. Of course, everything was done slowly nowadays, and it would not go any faster until he got his fangs into something that would give him energy.

He turned the screw leisurely. Maybe tomorrow he would find some prey. He must, or by then he would

surely shut down beyond recharging. He hadn't a charger

with him, and he surely didn't have the energy to go out looking for one. In fact, he didn't really have the energy to get up again. How was he supposed to catch anything then? Was this how it would end? Would he pass away, lying in the robots he had stolen lives from in exactly the same way?

He wasn't sure if he would be able to stay online until the morning. Darkness did sound a little satisfying though. Somewhere where he might rest from all his problems. The beating of rain outside sang a lullaby to him. Dangerous though it was, shutting down a little bit might be nice, just so long as he didn't stay inactive for too long. His lights dimmed even more than the little flicker they had.

Nos-4-A2 could feel the peace flushing over him like a warm blanket. His lights dimmed further.

He couldn't go any further lest he shut off for good. Even so, the lights that lit up his eyes faded away into darkness and he moved and thought no more.

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A/N: Okay, here's a question: does it rain on Tradeworld? It's never raining when it's shown, but it never actually says that it doesn't rain.

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	2. C:2

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C:2

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Little Betty Deka and her friend Bobby White had gone out early in the morning to explore down the city alleys. Her mother didn't approve, but Betty couldn't ask her to. As long as no one got hurt, she never needed to know. They had gotten found out once, she reflected peering into the opening of the sewer pipes, and her father had given her a nice big talking to. She had promised that she wouldn't explore any dangerous places anymore. Looking into the silent darkness, she couldn't bring herself to say it looked dangerous. Her friend, though, might have had a different opinion.

"Betty," Bobby said looking around at the rough terrain. "I don't like the looks of this place. Don't you think we should head home?"

Betty laughed. "No, silly."

"But your mom said not to go anywhere dangerous."

"Actually, my dad did," she replied halfway into the tube. "And we're not going to be out here."

"We-we're not?" he asked hopefully.

"Nah, we'll be safe inside these pipes." Bobby shuddered. She patted his shoulder. "Don't worry Bobby, we'll be fine! Don't you want to go exploring?"

"I like exploring; it's finding something scary that I'm worried about." he said peering past his friend into the darkness.

Betty smiled and took his hand. "Come on. I'm right here." Bobby swallowed hard and the two made their way cautiously down the sewer tunnels.

After a while of walking, their flashlight beam picked up pieces of machinery.

"Wow!" Betty exclaimed - her voice echoing all around. "Look at all these robots! You think dad would let me keep one?"

Bobby shrugged his shoulders, but Betty couldn't see it through the dark.

"Wow," she said again. "Hey Bobby, pick one out. Don't you have that birthday party to go to? You could get one for her and yourself!"

"Jesse _would _like it if I gave her a robot for her birthday," Bobby said thoughtfully picking among the robots.

"This tunnel goes on longer than I thought. Look! There are lots and lots more robots!" Betty said hurriedly glancing through them for one that she'd like. Bobby hurried after her with a couple different robots dragging behind him.

Betty crouched to take a better look at a walking television with her flashlight when the beam fell on a figure at the very end of the pipe.

"WHOA! Bobby! LOOK at THIS!" she called to her friend as he galloped through the robots.

"What? What is it?" Bobby asked excitedly coming up behind Betty.

"Look at HIM!" she exclaimed shining the flashlight beam squarely on the robot. "He looks like something out of a movie!"

"He looks like my Uncle Krane," Bobby commented scratching his head.

"Well I like him." Betty declared pulling at the dirty chrome arm to get him to face the exit. She lifted his top half up with a great effort. "He's heavy! Hey, Bobby, do you think you could help me carry him?"

"But I have my own robots to carry," Bobby protested motioning over to the small stack of robots behind him.

"All of those?" Betty asked.

"Well," Bobby contemplated carefully. "I guess I'm only going to take that one, and the toaster. I like toast."

"Okay, we can pile them all on top of mine. That way we can both help carry them." Betty suggested. Bobby nodded.

The two kids piled all their stuff on top of the red, sooty body, including the screwdriver beside it, and carried them through the back alleys to the Deka house.

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	3. C:3

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__Thanks to those who reviewed and to those who read my story, but hadn't the words to review, I hope it was worth your time. Well, if there aren't any questions, let's move on, shall we?_

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C:3

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The two friends halted outside the back door of Betty's house. Betty set her end of the robot down.

"You wait here," she told Bobby. "I'll go talk to mother." With that, she ran inside and closed the door.

Mrs. Deka was just inside the kitchen making lunch when Betty came in the door. In fact, she was only a foot or so from the door her daughter had used.

"You'll talk to me about what, Betty?" she inquired calmly.

Betty was stunned her mother had been so direct. Well, now she wouldn't have to strike up conversation to mention the robot.

She glanced over at the dirty dishes piled everywhere. "Mommy, the dishes aren't done."

Her mother gave her a look and went back to kneading the dough. "I know that. I haven't had any time to do that. _You_ could do a load, Betty."

"No, we don't have to do them anymore. Or any work actually!"

Her mother gave her a look of disbelief. "What are you saying?"

Betty hesitated. What if she said 'no'? Well, she was too deep in now to pull back out of the water. "I—me and Bobby, we found a robot out in the garbage."

Mrs. Deka raised an eyebrow. "Did you find it in an alley?"

Betty chuckled. "No," Her mother's face was stern. "…yes."

"Betty, I thought I told you not to go down there!"

Betty came further into the kitchen and sat in one of the chairs. "But Mom, he's great! He's built as a house-bot; I can tell. Perfect for dishes, and cooking, and cleaning…"

Her mother wiped her floury hands on her apron carefully thinking over the advantages and disadvantages of bringing a robot into their household.

"Sweety, we don't know where he's come from,"

"It's okay, he's no threat. When I found him he was entirely shut down. He was just an empty case."

"But if he doesn't work, then why-?"

"Oh! I have a charger in my room. Remember my birthday?" she replied.

Mrs. Deka was silent again – deep in thought. It seemed to Betty like a season before she answered. Her mother eventually breathed a long, giving sigh. "Alright," she agreed. "Bring him in here."

"Thank you Mommy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Betty jumped up and down and hugged her.

She stopped her daughter's bouncing. "I want to see him first before I say anything definite, okay?" Betty nodded vigorously. "Okay. Now hurry! Bring him in!"

Betty bounced out the door and nearly tripped over Bobby who was sitting on the step tinkering with his toaster. She excitedly told him what her mother said – though it was much like the chatters of a squirrel, she was so excited – and they brought all the robots in and set them on the floor.

Mrs. Deka was overwhelmed at first, thinking that she had agreed to all of these. "Are these all yours?" she asked.

"Oh, no." Betty replied pulling the red triangular body out from the bottom of the pile. "Just this one."

Her mother helped Bobby take the other robot and toaster off of Betty's robot. They propped it up against the wall.

"My," She commented, now looking him over thoroughly. "He's interesting. He reminds me of something I've read in a book."

"Or seen in a movie," Betty chimed in.

"Or my Uncle Krane," Bobby added. "But I'm pretty sure my uncle isn't made of metal."

"He probably isn't," Betty's mother told him as she checked the robot over. Just under the collar of his cape, there was a smudged panel. Mrs. Deka dusted it off and read the inscription. "Nos-4-A2. What do you suppose that means?"

"Maybe it's a secret code," Betty said mysteriously.

"Or a name tag," Bobby ventured. "My mom writes _my_ name on all my shirt tags incase I lose them."

"Hm," Betty thought. "I guess it makes sense. I could always call him Nos. ...That is if we're keeping him-?"

Her mother smiled warmly upon her. "Yes, we'll keep him." She was met with a loud cheer from both of the children even though, really, it was no concern of Bobby's.

"Why don't you go get him cleaned up? Who knows? Maybe he's a whole different color under all that grime." Mrs. Deka suggested. Betty and Bobby nodded excitedly and started up stairs with the robot.

"Oh, Bobby," her mother caught him. "While you were gone, your mother called asking me to send you home for lunch." Bobby's shoulders dropped and he looked defeated though he said nothing. "Maybe you can come over to see him after he's all cleaned up."

Bobby's eyes lit back up again and he smiled.

Mrs. Deka smiled also. "Do you need help carrying your robots?"

"No, I've got them." Bobby replied nearly disappearing under his burden. "Bye."

"Goodbye Bobby." the Dekas said in unison. Betty drug Nos-4-A2's body up the rest of the staircase and into the bathroom. She slammed the door.

"Does he need any oil?" Mrs. Deka called up the stairs. A grating squeak could be heard through the door.

"Yes!" Betty answered racing down the stairs. She got the lubricant from under the sink and was gone up the stairs so fast it was like she never came down.

Mrs. Deka laughed to herself. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything!"

"Okay!" Betty agreed closing the door again.

Betty got down to her knees and fished a rag out from under the sink. She ran it under the faucet and squeezed the excess water from its coils.

"Hm, you are pretty dirty," she mused. "I'd better use more water." She re-soaked her rag, dropped to her knees, and began scrubbing the soot from his abdomen. "I'm sorry I had to put you on the floor, but you're really stiff. Besides, it's much easier to clean you this way, don't you think?"

Betty's words were met with the dark, hollow stare of Nos-4-A2's empty eyes. She set to scrubbing again.

"I can't wait until you're charged. Then we can talk to each other." Betty squirted a line of liquid soap down his grimy surface and scrubbed his entire front into suds.

"You'll keep the water out, won't you?" the robot uttered no reply. "You will. You look like you were built pretty well. An instrument from Star Command maybe."

Betty sudsed up his arms doing her best to return the shine to their chrome panels.

"One of your arms are loose," she told him turning his arm. She took out the magnifying glass that always occupied the space in her back pants pocket and looked closely at the joint. "It's probably this old screw." She toggled the loosely attached screw in its socket. Betty turned the arm to the underside and saw that the only thing holding the screw in place was a nut screwed up the other side. His arm was attached crudely - like how a toy's elbow might be made. A bolt held his forearm on the other arm, though the bolt was easily turned in circles.

"It's a good thing I have bolts in my room. That old one looks like it'll give and that screw will never hold up. You deserve new bolts." Betty told her robot lovingly rubbing his shoulder. When she took her hand away it was covered in soot and dust. She wiped her hand on her shirt and went to working on his cape.

"I'm not going to be able to fix this," she remarked handling the dirty shreds of cape fastened around his slender neck. Betty took out a pair of scissors that were always tucked away in her front pants pocket and worked at cutting the material right under the gold plate that fastened the cape around his neck. Betty pulled it out from under him and carefully snipped the dark fabric from the plate.

"I'll make you a new one, Nos. Don't worry. The fabric's the same kind that's on my bed." she said studying the cape. "I'll replace my bedding with one of my curtains. It should suit me well enough."

Betty dumped Nos-4-A2 into the bathtub who hit the bottom of the metal tub with a _Clunk_. She scrubbed his face until it was sudsy, but was ever so careful with his monocle, which she cleaned very tenderly with the edge of her tee-shirt. Betty scrubbed all the dirt from his cracks and creases with an old toothbrush. She turned on the water and rinsed all the soap off of him. Her mother was right: he was nearly a whole new color under all that grime.

Betty pulled him out and dried him off. "I'll bet you want to be able to move when you wake up." she told him while squirting oil between his joints - working them back and forth until they moved smoothly.

"Now for the finishing touch," She told him pulling him by the arm down the hallway and into her room. "Boy will I be glad when you can move on your own."

She shut the door and laid him on her bed. Betty stayed quiet for a moment to make sure that her mother wasn't coming up the stairs, and then dug under her bed.

Finally she found the very thing she was looking for: a homemade metal-buffer. It was a machine about the size of a chainsaw with a fluffy pad at the end that spun at incredible speeds.

"It'll make you look really good." Betty explained as if Nos-4-A2 had asked her about it. "Don't worry, it shouldn't hurt."

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The two suns were going down and a crisscross sunset bathed the small house in the shadows of the surrounding buildings. Betty clipped the new cape around Nos-4-A2's neck and set him down by the wall like a rag doll. She wadded up the remains of her covers and pushed it, the scissors, the old tattered voice box, and her buffer all under the bed.

The light coming in the window between the streets reflected off of Nos-4-A2's shiny red plating. His sharp, chrome arms refracted the light into rainbows.

Betty looked on in satisfaction. There was no way her dad could say 'no' to this beautiful creation. He would be coming back tomorrow afternoon - that should be more than enough time to get him charged up and functioning. She plugged in her charger and clipped the tiny clamps onto the tips of his fangs. She switched it on and all that assured her it was working was a little red light, a quiet hum, and a needle quivering over what voltage rate the energy was being sent. It wasn't going to be some miraculous recovery; she knew that. No bot could take in energy quickly enough for it to work that fast. It would take several hours to revive him in such a dead state.

Even so, she was content to sit and watch him until he _did_ recover. She had just taken a seat when her mother called her down for dinner.

Betty suppressed a sigh as she got to her feet. Oh well. He'd be here when she got back. Before leaving, she peered into the deep hollow eyes, and though she might have only imagined it, saw a tiny flicker of red somewhere in the back.

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Spooky, hm? Well, okay, not really. The next chapter isn't finished yet, so it might take longer to get it up. Basically, when I figure out where I want to cut it.

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	4. c:4

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C:4

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It was very dark when Nos-4-A2's electronic eyes began picking up sight. There wasn't much to see except the outline of furniture in this small room. It was strange, he thought. He could see, but it seemed phoney somehow - like a dream. He couldn't move even when he tried._

Nos-4-A2 felt drugged. His mind was working, but it seemed slow and clumsy. His eyes picked up a small lump of heat curled up on the bed. It looked like a carbon-based life form. Maybe this whole charade was a dream. Besides, it all didn't feel right. It was numb somehow - lacking depth and intensity - a little spongy.

Or was this death?

The thought provoked a program of fear to chill his heart. Nos-4-A2 had never experienced death, so how was he to know what it was like? He didn't know the energy-based could die. Actually, he had never thought about it before.

So, if this was death, what was that creature across from him? Was it some guardian of the underworld sent to make sure he didn't escape?

Nos-4-A2's mind struggled and struggled to arouse his body, but to no avail. It were as if he was asleep! He digested this a while.

Maybe he was just asleep - as the carbon-based often did. Maybe he had managed to fall into this state of inactivity somehow.

His fear shrank away as exhaustion moved in. He felt frail and weak. That wild burst of fear had taken his energy away.

He must rest, he realized. If not completely shut down, then at least on stand-by.

Even if this was all a dream, Nos-4-A2 still didn't trust he would be safe when entirely shut down, so he carefully eased into a stand-by mode, feeling delicious energy slowly flowing into his body. He was already feeling stronger.

''

Nos-4-A2's eyes opened once more to the strange place. The odd thing, though, was that he was completely conscious. But he thought this all was a dream! What did this mean then?

He pushed himself up with his arms so that he could see more of the room. Now that it was lighter, his eyes could pick up more of the objects around him. He could hear now also.

Nos-4-A2 moved his arms around in their shoulder sockets. Someone had oiled him. And these new bolts in his elbows - someone had done that too. He flexed his elbow back and forth. And they had done a rather good job with it.

Nos-4-A2 was excited as an energy vampire might be to test out his wings that tingled in the hope that they too had been fixed. But what was this? Why wouldn't he float? Maybe he just needed to make himself vertical - that made sense.

He grabbed ahold of the dresser beside him and inched his way up to a vertical position. But it didn't matter, for he was still grounded. No matter what he did, his body would not lift off the floor.

What was wrong with him? He wondered trying to hold himself up. Even when he was on limited energy, he could float around at least a little bit.

But wait, what was this small ring 'round his waist? He carefully positioned his semi-lifeless body against the wall. He must investigate this oddity.

Hmm, it swivelled, so he knew it wasn't inserted straight into his person. And if it hadn't become a part of him, he knew he could get it off. Nos-4-A2 edged his fingers underneath it to satisfy his curiosity. Ugh! He pulled them away. His fingers had gone numb. He never liked losing energy, but losing it directly in one spot was - oh, how to describe it - _unnerving_ perhaps.

If that thing stole energy from him, then he must kill it! Take away all the ability from its small, scrappy body. He pulled down as far as he could but couldn't reach it. He reared up and tried harder. Still it was out of reach. He stood back up, bared his fangs as far as he could, and tried one last time - pulling with all his might towards the enemy.

"Don't even bother."

Nos-4-A2 jumped and fell to the ground. Where did that come from? Nos-4-A2 was greatly confused, then he saw the little, grungy girl in the doorway.

"It's a circuit-scrambler. It scrambles commands that are passed through the ring. So don't worry. It's not that your H-230 isn't working, it just can't understand what you want it to do." She explained without ceasing.

Nos-4-A2 acted as casual and straight as he could be. "Intelligent, aren't we?"

The little girl smiled at him. "You thound lithe thith." she mimicked with a hold on her tongue. "Here, I'll take you off the charger. A nice strong Star Command robot like you doesn't need charger feed."

A 'Star Command robot'? Did he really give off an air of 'space ranger'? Odd thoughts, this one had.

When she had removed the clamps, the little girl held out her hand. "Hi Nos, I'm Betty Deka. Your new owner. Or friend, whichever you're used to."

Nos-4-A2 held up a finger as if he were about to start a very long lecture. "I–" he squinted. "How do you know my name?"

Betty bounced over to him and pulled him forward as she uncovered the gold plate. "It's engraved on the back of your neck. Right here." Nos-4-A2 felt a couple _dink_s near the back of his head.

"I'm so excited that I found you. You know, I always wanted a real robot of my own, but I never found one I could buy and I couldn't make one that acted like it was alive, that's why I'm so glad I found you! My very own robot!"

Nos-4-A2 caught very little of that, but he knew what it meant: she thought that she owned him. Ha! That was a laughable matter. No one could possess Nos-4-A2, not even his creator!

Hmm, he rubbed his chin in thought. This could be a good thing. Maybe he could loiter around here a little bit. After all, she had a charger – Nos-4-A2 glanced up at the ceiling light – and power in the house. This might not be such a bad idea. But then the acknowledgment of that insolent circuit-scrambler. If she had him in this thing, how else could he be subject to her power?

Nos-4-A2 laughed it off. This little carbon-based flesh-thing...power? She hadn't even the power to stop herself from talking. Undoubtedly, she couldn't be all that sly. She must have dictated her short life at least five times to him now.

"–and wait 'til my mother sees you!"

Nos-4-A2's hearing pricked. "Huh? What? There are more of you?"

"Well, yeah," Betty said more slowly than she had spoken all morning. "Did you really think I'd live by myself? I live with my mom and dad. They say I can't leave until I'm a lot older. But that's okay, because I like it here. Plus now I have you! So this makes it a hundred times better," she said, her voice building with excitement as she spoke. "Speaking of my mom, I want you to meet her. She's downstairs having breakfast."

Nos-4-A2's eyes followed the remote as it moved in Betty's grip. He watched it as intently as a spider watches its prey and readied a plan when her thumb finally touched down on the surface.

As soon as he heard the beep, energy flowed through his wires and the bottom-half of his body came alive. Nos-4-A2 rose off the floor and gave a triumphant laugh, spreading wide his restored wings, surging with energy.

"Fool!" he laughed. "You cannot contain Nos-4-A2!"

Betty sported an unimpressed visage as she cut off his power. He fell to the floor with a startled squeak and tried to push himself up again.

Betty sauntered over to him completely unrattled by his introduction. "I'd advise you not to do that again," she stated plainly. "We need you here, and you need my help."

Words cannot describe how embarrassing of an experience this was for Nos-4-A2. The scowl on his face told enough. Him, laying on the floor, completely vulnerable, being scolded by a five-year-old.

Betty reached a small hand towards his mighty wing.

"Keep your distance," Nos-4-A2 warned pushing himself up on his elbows.

Betty recoiled and then looked him in the eye. "I'll turn it off if you don't try that again." She said.

Nos-4-A2 gave a half-hearted sigh. "Oh alright," he extended one of his hands. Betty pulled hers away.

"Promise?" she tested.

"Yes, I'll promise," he agreed and they shook hands.

Betty deactivated the circuit-scrambler, helped her robot up, and stood back. Nos-4-A2 aligned himself in a comfortable, upright position. He calmly dusted his non-existent waistcoat and made a sound like that of someone clearing their throat. When he finished, Nos-4-A2 folded his hands behind his back, smiled at the little girl, and dove through the glass of the window.

Betty was in no rush. Nos-4-A2 soared out into the air, feeling little Tradeworld winds lap under his wings. He looked down at the little girl in the window, growing smaller and smaller still.

"I do not need your help! Nor anyone's help! I am all powerful!" Nos-4-A2 called, finishing his declaration off with a maniacal laugh.

Then came the beep. Nos-4-A2 remembered helplessly the ring around his middle. His lower body went numb and he struggled to keep himself up by wing-strength. No use. He fell through the air with a mechanical screech that sounded like steel scraping down glass. He hit the street with a _CRASH_ like cymbals dropped off a building.

The little girl vanished from the window. Running down to see him, no doubt. Nos-4-A2 moaned and turned over onto his back spreading his wings out. He had become acquainted with the pavement more times than he would have liked.

What to do about that girl, though. He could always drag himself away, but how far would he go? Nos-4-A2 didn't have time to think much on his escape, for in a short amount of time, Betty showed up racing around the corner of the building. He felt like prey caught in a trap, waiting for the hunter to have its way with him.

Betty nearly slid to a stop. She dropped to her knees and looked him over - her eyes over his wings. She glanced at his face which looked very lenient at the moment and carefully stretched her fingers to touch the red, energy flow.

Nos-4-A2 hissed and his tongue sparked at the tongs. She pulled back her hand but then became enthralled with his tongue.

"What could you possibly use a tongue like that for?" she asked partly to herself.

Nos-4-A2's expression was quite unreadable, mainly because he hadn't decided exactly how he felt.

"Nothing you would ever come up with," he snapped feeling very foolish from his position on the street. "And I would very much appreciate it if you ridded me of this wretched thing." Nos-4-A2 yanked at the circuit-scrambler.

Betty stood taller on her knees and folded her arms. "Not until I know you won't run off again."

"Alright, I'll promise."

Betty cut him short. "No, I can't trust your promises. At least not for a while."

Nos-4-A2 craned his neck to watch a car hover somewhere over them and the hollow in his lower chest reminded him of energy lost in the escape attempt.

"Must feed," he hissed to himself, watching it sail away. He was caught off guard by a chuckling sound coming from the little girl.

"You _do_ need my help," she confirmed. "You hungry for lunch already?"

Nos-4-A2, however, was not amused. Nonetheless, where could he go until he had fed and was free? Maybe some persuading and influence could be done on his part before his stay was up. So, with a sly grin, Nos-4-A2 accepted her invitation, and the little girl didn't seem the least bit suspicious.

Betty turned off the circuit-scrambler again and pulled him up. "You'll have to wear the ring a little longer until I'm sure that you won't try something stupid again. I hope you're well-behaved by the time Dad comes home next week - it just doesn't look right."

She gasped. "You never got to see my mom!" she pulled him up the fire escape. "She'll love you. She needs someone to help with the house."

"Oh? And why not you?" Nos-4-A2 poked her back with a sharp finger.

Betty batted it away. "Because I have too much stuff to do during the day to worry about housekeeping. And you're our new housekeeper."

Well, Nos-4-A2 didn't count on this. He was expected to be house-bot to this little family of humans?

Betty continued talking as she climbed the last few stairs. "After we show you to my mom, I'll feed you something."

Nos-4-A2 smiled and licked his lips. "Well then," he said, "To Mother."

* * *

_A/N: Well, I'd have to say this is going better than I thought it would, though I don't exactly know what to do with the next few chapters. So, in reviews, please launch suggestions. Thanks to all who have been reading!

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_


	5. C:5

_

* * *

_

C:5

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Betty climbed through the window and Nos-4-A2 climbed in after her. The human girl pulled the window closed, scurried across her small room and opened her door. She stood out of the way, motioning vigorously for Nos-4-A2 to follow – and hurry up at that. Nos-4-A2 frowned, but came anyway.

"I do not respond to prodding," he mentioned as he glided past her and into the hallway.

"Hurry up! You move so slow!" She shut the door behind him and ran ahead.

Nos-4-A2 had begun to say something else, but it was no use for she had already gone around the corner and out of earshot.

"I hope her mother is not this conversational or I fear I shall blow a circuit." He mumbled to himself. Nos-4-A2's fangs appeared as he smiled cunningly. No matter how this flesh-thing's brood behaved, he was guaranteed a meal. He licked his lips. It was a strange concept to think of; he had always hunted his food, but this little girl was going to _give_ him food without any secrecy or hunting at all. Hm… splendid.

The human came stomping down the hallway again with all the fury of an eight-year-old and a scowl to portray it.

"By the time you get downstairs, Nos, it will be dinnertime," she complained moving ever closer to him.

There was an invisible boundary around Nos-4-A2 that other beings seldom penetrated somewhere around three feet away from him. The fleshling blew right through it without a moment's hesitation. And if that weren't shocking enough, she grabbed him by the wrist.

Nos-4-A2 jerked it away with an angry hiss. "Unhand me…"

"But you are moving slower than a dumpster," She stated, perhaps a little shaken.

"Alright!" Nos threw his hands into the air. "I shall kick it up another notch!" He managed a quick burst of speed and then he was back to sputtering along. Well, this was embarrassing, wasn't it? Nos-4-A2 sighed and held his arm out to her. "Very well."

The girl was hesitant to take it.

"Come on! We haven't got all day!"

She grabbed his arm and pulled him down the stairs like a dog pulling a sled. Humiliation; that's what it was, but what could he do? He hadn't charged for so long that an overnight charge was not long enough anymore. Or, at least it wasn't until he got back to his usual functionality.

The girl stopped at the entrance of the kitchen. Her mother, an overworked-looking woman with dark hair pulled loosely into a bun, sat at the dining room table reading the news-slate, an electronic piece of easy prey that Nos-4-A2 had to put effort into resisting.

"Hi Mommy," the girl greeted.

The woman looked up and was taken aback. "Wow, Betty, you sure did a good job cleaning him up!" she praised.

"Mom, meet Nos-4-A2. Nos-4-A2, meet Mom." Nos smiled to himself; if this was all there was to meeting her mother, then breakfast was as good as here; Nos-4-A2 was skilled in every social grace.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," he said as smooth as silk and extended his right hand. She grabbed it and shook it.

"What a polite robot!" she commented to Betty. "He's like a butler or something!" She chuckled a little and then looked back at him. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Nos-4-A2. Tell me, where did you learn such manners?"

"They were programmed into my memory at creation." He replied.

"Ah, I see. Well, I suppose you may start on the dishes, and after that—"

"Actually," Nos-4-A2 cut her off and moved to stand by Betty. "I do believe—Betty, wasn't it?—promised me some sustenance before I begin my duties." Though he had not entirely decided what his duty here would entitle. He could always drain all the power in their household and make a break for it, but then what future would that hold? He would end up on the streets again.

"Oh. Alright. Then, Betty, go ahead and feed him. I suppose you plug him into a wall or something—"

Before Betty or her mother knew what was happening, Nos-4-A2 had snatched the news-slate from the table and sunk his teeth into it.

The energy felt so good! After surviving on dew, he now drank from a faucet. He drank and drank until there was no power left at all. He dropped it to the floor with a contented sigh.

"Smashing…simply smashing…" he said to no one in particular. …But it was not enough, for not very much electricity is needed to power a news-slate. He needed something else... Nos-4-A2 glanced around the room and spotted the dishwasher. He glided over to it and sank his teeth into the chrome plating. A waterfall of energy cascaded into his fangs and charged his body with more energy than he had harnessed for such a long time. Oh! The wonder—Ah!

He fell to the floor with a _clunk_, the lower half of his body gone numb. She had turned it on again. Blast it all.

"What happened to your manners, Nos!?" Betty exclaimed.

"Oh…" Nos-4-A2 remembered. "So sorry. Please turn this…_thing_…off?"

"I don't think I can trust you," Betty said honestly.

Blast it. He had gotten carried away and blown it. If he didn't do something fast, he would be thrown out into the street.

"I got carried away, dearest, but I shan't do it again. I promise."

Betty's face was crinkled as she thought it over. Her mother's face was one of pure shock; maybe he shouldn't have drained her news-slate. Betty looked furious, but at the same time, Nos-4-A2 knew that she wanted to keep him.

"You have one more chance, but then that's it." She turned the contraption off and Nos-4-A2 'stood up' again. "Now apologize to my mom and be polite again," Betty commanded.

Nos-4-A2 cringed; one year ago, he would have blasted them both to smithereens for daring such a command. But today – oh Nos, old boy, what has happened to you? – he was complying. He felt like a child.

"Forgive me for feeding on your appliances." Betty's look meant that he wasn't finished. _Say something nice,_ it read. Well, whatever the empress ordered. "May I complement you on the loveliness of your home and the tastiness of your dishwasher," he added.

Betty was taken slightly aback, but then she nodded.

"Why thank you, Nos-4-A2," her mother said. "And yes, you are forgiven."

_Thank heaven!_ Nos-4-A2 thought sarcastically. _What would I have done if she didn't forgive me? Oh the cruelty!_

"I suppose you'll need to wash the dishes by hand now," her mother commented.

Oh. …Nos-4-A2 hadn't considered that. Next time he ate something in the house, for he believed there _would_ be a next time, he wouldn't drain something that would cause him more work.

* * *

This is something I didn't expect to find myself doing two years later... submitting a new chapter! I haven't been to for a while and when I came back, I realized that people were still reading my stories! Especially this one. Thank you to all of you who have read so far. I am going to finish this one. I have an outline written down and now it's only a matter of time. Again, thank you to those who continued reading and reviewing, even when it seemed a hopeless matter to. Enjoy!

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	6. C:6

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C:6

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"…And so that's how I came across you. You were the most magnificent robot down there in the sewer! It smelled really bad down there and it scared my best friend, Bobby. Have I told you about Bobby? I don't remember. Well, anyway, I'll just tell you again, in case I didn't before. He's shorter than me and afraid of a lot of things. But he's really nice and fun to play with anyway. He comes on adventures with me, even if they scare him, because I think he likes to play with me too. He didn't want to come on the last one, though I'm sure he's glad he did because he got to keep some of the robots. He took a weird-looking one and a toaster, because he likes toast and his family's toaster broke a while ago. Actually, it was crushed by a falling refrigerator and…"

Nos-4-A2 wanted to die. He was positioned at the kitchen sink, meticulously washing each dish by hand. He did not like the hot water streaming over his hands, the soap that seemed to get into all of his crevices, the way each dish seemed to slip out of his metal fingers, the way this _fleshling_ was straining his monocle with her ceaseless prattling. His plan for survival had been to stay until he was back to usual functionality and once he had a plan to keep himself away from the desperate state he had previously been in before, he would drain her house completely of power and use the extra energy boost for…something. He didn't know what yet, but he would soon. Nos cringed. He would have to know very soon for he was not sure how much more of this girl he could take; and he had only been here half a day!

The mother came into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Betty stopped talking for a short moment.

"Betty, I need the use the sink to make lunch. Take Nos somewhere else please," her mother said carrying a large bowl of salad greens to the sink.

"Alright," Betty said, grabbing his wrist again. "Come on, Nos."

Words could not describe how much Nos-4-A2 hated being grabbed by the wrist and carted around like an animal. Words could only say, "I hate being grabbed and pulled around!" Not even "I abhor your grabbing and pulling more than being drained of power!" sufficed. Well, Nos thought, no, he did hate being drained of power more than this fleshling's treatment of him. Otherwise, why would he tolerate it?

A knock came at the front door as they passed. Betty let go of Nos-4-A2's wrist and ran to the door. She jumped to see out of the glass near the top of the door.

"I can't see anyone," she told him. "That could mean two things: one, it could be a body-less evil come to kill us all—"

"Heaven forbid," Nos murmured.

"Or two, it could be Bobby, cause he's not very tall, as I told you before." Betty unlocked the door, opened it and—lo and behold!—it was another little fleshling; this time, a boy.

"Bobby!" she greeted with a wide smile.

"Hi," Bobby said back. He caught sight of Nos-4-A2 hovering in the background, red eyes aglow in the dim light. Bobby's jaw dropped. "You got your robot to work?! Wow! And you've only had it overnight! You're amazing Betty!"

Betty smiled modestly. "Thank you. He cleaned up really well. It turned out all he needed was some parts replaced, charging, and the grime scraped off of him."

Bobby moved towards him in awe. Nos-4-A2 glowered. He emitted a low hiss.

"Yikes!" Bobby shrieked, pulling back. "He's not a very nice robot. He acted like he was going to bite me!"

Betty scowled up at Nos-4-A2; Nos-4-A2 grinned slyly. Betty brought the remote to the accursed numbing device better in Nos's view. Nos sighed in frustration and moved towards Bobby.

"My apologies for frightening you," he said in a proud and unyielding voice. If he was going to be made to apologize to a six-year-old, he would do it with as much dignity as he had in him.

"That's ok, I guess," Bobby replied, still spooked.

"Sorry Bobby, I haven't taught him manners yet. He's still pretty rude."

Nos-4-A2 ground his teeth into the metal of his lower jaw to keep from saying—or doing something—drastic. _Think of the energy, old boy,_ he told himself,_ just think of the energy. You won't have to endure this child forever. Be patient. …Be patient. …Be patient…_

As he soothed himself, the flaming blue that was his temper slowly cooled to a red. He had endured these sort of pests in the past. Buzz Lightyear, for one, had been a particular thorn in his side. But he had emerged triumphant. Well…no, he admitted, not triumphant. But quite nearly. And once he had enough power and a plan, success was sure. This success came with a price, a small one in comparison; he just needed to withstand this insolent carbon-bag until he was fully— or super, if that was even possible—charged and had a plan. This house, itself, would provide satisfactory nourishment and with all of the girl's mechanical inventions upstairs, he would have enough break the cycle of starvation until he was well enough off. Enough to remodel himself; make his fangs sharper, his wings quieter, his grip stronger, his glide faster. He smiled deviously.

"If you come to my room, I'll show you all the stuff I did to remodel him," Betty said excitedly.

"Neat!" Bobby ran up the stairs.

Betty grabbed for Nos's hand and Nos yanked it away.

"I prefer to travel alone, if you don't mind," he snapped.

Betty put her hands on her hips. "Remember this morning? Dumpster speed?"

Nos-4-A2 crossed his arms. "Well, remember this morning? Dishwasher?"

"Was that enough?" Betty asked.

"Of course it was. I'll show you." And Nos-4-A2 glided up the stairs and into her room at walking speed. Though he was working hard enough to sprint, he held his head high and was determined not to let Betty know.

* * *

A/N: I am still writing! I am just slow coming. However, now that it's summer and I don't have homework or such to work on, I hope to get this thing going at a faster speed. I know the basics of how many chapters left and where I want them to head. So, it's just getting me to work on it. Wow, you all are so patient. Maybe Nos-4-A2 should follow your example. Keep your eyes on the prize, Nos! Don't blow it!


	7. C:7

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C: 7

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Nos-4-A2 arrived at Betty's room and positioned himself in the corner. The other fleshling had seated himself on the bed and, upon Nos's entrance, stared anxiously with comically wide eyes. Nos allowed himself a wicked grin; he was feared, he was dangerous. Why not savor such a moment as this? He hadn't been properly feared for a much longer expanse than he cared to remember. He opened his wings and sighed at the cool tingle of energy surging down the fingers of his wings, cracking to life in a red, hot blanket of energy. He raised his arms above his head and opened his wings, knocking several things off of the shelves beside him. The boy on the bed scooted into the corner and closed his eyes, whimpering. Nos-4-A2 reached forward with both hands and released an angry hiss. Tears formed in the human's eyes and then its whimper turned into a wail.

"Betty!" he cried. "Save me!"

Nos ceased hissing, drew in his wings and clasped his hands behind his back, just as Betty entered the room. Betty glanced at the boy and then turned a scowl towards Nos, whose gaze had wandered to the shelves near the ceiling. He appeared completely enthralled by them. The girl folded her arms across her chest.

"Nos, what did you do?" she demanded.

"Nothing that should be found unacceptable," Nos replied waving his hand as if it mattered little. He flicked his gaze to Bobby. "Perhaps the boy cannot handle the grown-up assets of my nature and should go back to kiddie-school until they don't cause him to soil his trousers."

There was a pause, and then the boy-child's face scrunched up; if he hadn't caught the meaning of Nos's full statement, he surely understood the last phrase.

_No doubt these toddlers know all about that._ Nos-4-A2 thought.

"Hey!" Bobby protested, wiping his tears away with his small fist. "That's not nice! And I don't wet my pants anymore! I'm not a baby!"

Nos-4-A2 glanced, unperturbed, at Betty. She was nearly livid with rage at his insult, but underneath – my, what was that? – the shimmer of a smile in her eyes? Could she have thought his joke was funny? Nos was taken aback; he had made the jest entirely for his own amusement; who cared if she cared? Not him.

Her rage slowly died down and the smile grew until it was full blown across her face.

"That was pretty funny, Nos," she commented.

Bobby was dumbfounded. "What?" he exclaimed pointing at the energy vampire. "Your robot said a very mean thing!"

"He was only kidding, right Nos?" Betty asked, turning towards him.

Nos smiled dark and cunningly. "Of course."

The boy looked into his eyes and his face went pale. He looked longingly towards Betty. "He scares me, Betty." He said quietly.

Betty came to stand at Nos-4-A2's side. "He scares me sometimes, too. But isn't he cool? Look at those fangs." She pulled open his mouth and tapped on with her finger. "And look at that tongue." She was practically hanging from his jaw. Nos-4-A2 grabbed her wrists and threw her hands away. How dare she touch him like that. If she tried again, he would surely bite her: awful taste aside.

"Hey, Nos, come further into my room, will ya? I want Bobby to see all the cool things you have."

Nos-4-A2 drooped his head and shoulders in a silent sigh and moved from his corner to the center of the room. Betty immediately followed and grabbed his cape.

"Isn't his cape neat?" she asked. The boy, still shaken, nodded. "This isn't his original cape, upt it looks about how I think it did before it was all ruined."

She had done a tolerable job replacing his cape. Though this one didn't hug his form like the one Zurg had given him and therefore, Nos-4-A2 thought, it lacked some of the previous dark charm and functionality. He was glad to have one, though, after living with his last one in tattered shreds. Before he knew it, the girl had moved on.

"And this is his big eye. I don't know what it does, but I think I'll figure it out," she said flicking his monocle.

"Ack!" Nos exclaimed and covered it. "You don't just go around flicking people's eyes! And it's called a monocle."

"You can feel that? Wow! How did your creator put a sense of touch there? I've been trying to figure out sense of touch for years! What did your creator do?!" Betty exclaimed.

Nos had a hard, straight face. Surely he knew; what robot didn't know how he was built?! And Nos-4-A2 was not just a robot, he was much more! Robots feared him, served him, and fed him! Even fleshlings feared him. He was the most powerful, most complex being in the entire universe. He didn't need to take orders from a premature human. He was his own master, as he had proven time and time again.

"I haven't the slightest notion," he replied.

Betty scowled. "Liar," she countered. "You do too know. A good robot technician would never program its motherboard without including full schematics. A good robot would know."

"Perhaps I'm not a good robot."

"Well, 'perhaps' you just want to be mean."

"Perhaps. What shall you do about it?"

Betty's face turned red and she struggled the remote out of the back pocket of her overalls. Nos-4-A2 didn't care if she punished him. He was not a pet rabbit that could be twisted, poked and prodded for amusement. She pointed it at him with shaking hands and her eyes moistened. But instead of pushing the button and making Nos-4-A2 fall to the floor, she turned and ran out of the room. Bobby inched past Nos and followed her, not wanting to be alone in the room with the energy vampire again.

Their footsteps died away down the hall and stairs; Nos-4-A2 was left alone in the quiet room. _Finally._ He thought, gliding to the window and looked down the fire escape. If only he could escape right now. Though the prospect was tempting, he knew that leaving without removing the circuit scrambler around his waist or destroying the remote that controlled it would be futile. He must stay a little longer.

There might be something in the girl's room that would take the ring off. He zoomed to her shelves and scanned its contents. He studied his restraint. It required an incredibly small screwdriver, one of which was nowhere to be found. Nos-4-A2 pulled one out from inside a box of tools that looked promising. No, too big. He scanned all around her room without any luck. Finally, he turned his body horizontally and lowered himself to search under her bed. He pulled out countless finished and half-finished machines, but did not find even one tool.

As he was about to stand up again, a machine in the back caught his eye. Curiously, he reached further under the bed and pulled it out. It was an incomplete robot that looked like a young girl. The face is what struck him the most; the eyes were mismatched – obviously all she had to work with. The mouthpiece was nothing more than a small, drilled hole, but coming off of both sides of the hole were two curved lines with crescent-shaped lines perpendicular to them at the ends. A smile. Why? What did a robot without the ability to move its jaw need with a smile?

Nos-4-A2 frowned. Why did that girl cry like that? He looked at the robot thoughtfully. This was her life's work; the robot she slaved over to make come to life. No wonder she got so upset. Though Nos-4-A2 didn't really feel sorry for making her cry, he did feel a closer kinship with her. She was struggling to keep a dream alive that everyone fought to kill. Hm…he understood that.


	8. C:8

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C: 8

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The two children hadn't come back, though Nos-4-A2 didn't mind being by himself. In fact, he preferred it. He had lived alone since his creation – he needed no one and wanted no one. But for his need for energy and the circuit scrambler, he would be gone already. Nos-4-A2 stayed in the bedroom perusing the child's collection of machines.

He felt heaviness and sluggishness setting in and knew he needed to feed again. Nos-4-A2 hovered to the writing desk in the corner of the room covered in bolts, wires and a gutted machine about t the size of a footstool. He pulled open one of the scraped and dented top drawers. He dug around in the junk that filled it until his fingers found a battery. He put it to his mouth and sank his fangs in. He felt instantly lighter and more powerful.

"My, that one had some life left in it," he commented coolly. He dug in the drawer again and found another battery, which he drained and tossed away. As he was searching for another, he heard Betty's mother coming down the hall.

"Betty!" she called, "I just got a call from your dad. He said that he's coming home tomorrow with the new generator core because the power plant is—" she pushed open the door but there was no one but Nos there. "Oh," she gasped, startled. "I'm sorry. I was sure Betty was up here. Do you know where she went?"

"I haven't the slightest notion." _And I do not care._ He did not add.

"Oh," the women replied. "Well, thank you." She closed the door and went back downstairs. Nos-4-A2 watched the door for a while listening to her steps and calls for Betty to fade. He plucked another battery from the drawer and drained it.

So, the man of the house was coming home with the power core to the new city generator. His fangs sparked as he imagined it. So much energy; so much power… Nos had gotten very close to draining Tradeworld's power before through the generator core. Even hovering outside the protective closed, metal door protecting it, he had felt the immense power leeching through the metal, recharging his body just by being close to it. If this power core was replacing _that_, how much more powerful it must be!

It was the source of power he had been waiting for to launch him above all other life forms, carbon and electronic. TO make all their shield metal useless against his strength; after that, if he kept himself fed – and he would, since it was his primary concern – he would never go back to lurking in alleys, begging for meals, lying in the dark, dying…

Nos-4-A2 felt a cold stream of electricity crawl up his back, brought about by the memory of himself stored forever in his database.

"_I'll power down; just for a little while. Just a rest." He assured himself, though he knew he hadn't the energy to wake back up._

Nos-4-A2 shuddered. _Never again. _He vowed. _Never again shall I be reduced to so mean an existence._

A metallic squeal caught his attention and he turned to face the door. The doorknob was turning. Finally, the door itself opened, slowly, to reveal the strangely quiet form of Betty. She came through and closed the door; apparently the boy had gone home or something.

Nos-4-A2 frowned in curiosity and confusion as Betty sat quietly on her bed and watched herself fidget with her fingers. Nos closed the desk drawer.

"I'm sorry I acted like that," she mumbled in her lap. "It's just, I was so angry because I've wanted to know so bad for so long and the only thing keeping me from knowing was you. And there was nothing I could do about it."

Nos-4-A2 watched her silently. He wanted to feel the haughty satisfaction that came when he was submitted to. But, he found he could not muster it. What glory was there in triumphing over little children, after all?

"It's always been my dream to be a great inventor like my dad and create something no one ever has. My dad is working on this new power cell that pulls electricity out of the air and transforms it into energy so it will never break down. Which is good because the one running Tradeworld right now is breaking down. When he finishes and gives it to the power-plant people, we'll get a lot of money and be able to move into a house at the top of a building close to the sky where we can see the stars and mom won't need to work so hard and…it'll be great. We'll have so much that we can help Bobby and his folks because they have even less than we do. Then we'll get to go exploring more places. Mom says that we live in a very dangerous place and so she doesn't like us exploring very much. But with that generator, all of that will change." Betty sighed and fell back on her bed.

"I want to invent a robot whose skin can feel like real skin, like Star Command did with you. But I'll make all kinds. Pets, friends. All kinds. It's been my dream since I was little." Nos laughed internally at that. "I don't suppose you know anything about dreams, though."

Nos-4-A2 leaned his arms on the windowsill. "I would not assume so rashly." He warned, watching cars zoom by in the air above the further buildings.

"What is your dream?" Betty asked, still laying flat.

Nos was silent. He stared at a robot with wheels rolling across the street below.

Betty uttered a frustrated sigh. "You're good at listening, but not good at responding." She mentioned. "Like everything I've built." She added dejectedly.

"I want to fix the universe." He asserted, unwilling to be categorized as _just like other robots._

"Is there something wrong with the _whole_ universe?" Betty asked incredulously.

Nos rested his chin on his arms. "Indeed."

"What?"

Nos-4-A2 paused, searching for a safe answer. "Too much of one thing, not enough of another." _Too many fleshlings, not enough robots._

"Yeah. Too many bad people and not enough good ones." She turned, propped her chin up with her hand and stared at the dark figure hunched on her windowsill. "That is a very noble dream, Nos."

Just then, something occurred to him. If he could convince her to support his 'noble dream', escaping would no longer be an issue. She would let him go freely and do all she could to help him with his plan of universal domination! Or at least, help him to climb out of the dark water he had been thrashing in lately. If he chose his words carefully, he might have a chance.

Nos-4-A2 emitted a noise that sounded like a despairing sigh. "Alas, there are few who would agree with you."

Betty's eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"No one supports my dream," he lamented. "They all see it as a lost cause; a breach of reality; too grand-scale to ever carry out." He glanced at Betty whose face was clouding over with empathy.

"That's terrible," she whispered.

"Isn't it? Humans are such unreliable creatures—oops!" His hand flew to his mouth to cover his planned slip-up. "Sorry."

"That's ok," the girl replied. "Humans are pretty unreliable. Like I said, I've always dreamed of creating a living robot like you, but no one supports me. No one tells me I can do it or offers to help or anything. All I want is someone to really, truly believe in me." She wiped her arm across her face.

Nos-4-A2 rose to a standing position. "If only humans were as trustworthy as us robots; we have trust programmed into us at creation." He reasoned softly.

"Yeah, if only." She agreed, lowering her eyes.

Nos-4-A2 let silence fill the void for a moment before he made his final move. He hovered to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked up with wet eyes.

"I have an idea," he offered. "Why don't we support each other's dreams? Disregard the apprehensions of everyone else."

"But Bobby—"

"Forget Bobby." He commanded.

Betty scowled. This was an issue she would not be swayed in. "But Bobby is my best friend and if this doesn't include him, then I—"

"Oh alright, keep the boy!" Nos cried in exasperation. He caught himself, cleared his throat and smiled, regaining his soft air. He draped his left arm over her shoulders. "What I mean is, let's work together as partners, steadily achieving both of our dreams. If you'll help me with mine, I'll do everything in my power to help you with yours."

Betty's face lit up. "Really?" she gasped.

"Yes." He held out his hand. "Deal?"

Betty considered for a moment, though it was clear to Nos-4-A2 that she had already made up her mind. She grabbed his hand and grinned from ear to ear. "Deal."

_Perfect._ He thought. _After I convince her to forsake her kind and concepts of good and evil, I'll be rid of this cursed circuit scrambler, that generator will be mine, I'll escape this house, rule Tradeworld, and this foolish flesh girl will help me do it._

* * *

A/N: Kudos to Dying Rose on the Vine for offering this idea. The next chapter is already rolling around in my head. I hope it will be funny!

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	9. C:9

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C:9

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The next day was spent in work of many kinds. Part of the time Nos used getting himself back to his usual functionality, part was used as Betty and Nos worked on her robot, and the remaining portion was taken with "evil lessons", which seemed to be going badly. The girl was simply too nice and too stubborn. She knew what she believed and was as immovable as a Tradeworld skyscraper. But, with all the patience he could muster, Nos-4-A2 still tried. He believed she might make a valuable – if not temporary – asset in getting him the cosmos; even if her only role was to feed and release him. But she was not budging; and having her little friend along was only making matters more difficult. Nos could sense the seed, however tiny it was, of discontent with the untrustworthiness of flesh-creatures and he believed he could grasp it and grow it into something vile and vicious.

"You want me to do what again?" the girl asked, a hint of boredom in her voice.

Nos-4-A2 grimaced at it. "I want you to reach inside yourself and dig out the times when humans let you down. Feast upon them."

"Betty can't find stuff inside herself," the boy objected, scratching his arm. "If she reaches inside, all she'll find is her tongue. And if she reaches any further, she'll barf."

Nos threw him a threatening glare, which caused Bobby to whimper.

"He's right, you know," Betty interjected.

"It's figurative." Nos growled.

"Fig-what?" asked Betty.

"Let's just move on."

"I think he said, 'Fignewtonative'." Bobby offered.

"Oh."

"That is not what I said—"

"Speaking of which, I'm hungry." Bobby commented. "You think your mom will let us have a snack?"

"Betty," Nos-4-A2 groped for her attention in vain.

"I don't know; I'll go ask." And with that, she ran into the kitchen.

"Ugh!" Nos sighed in frustration and wiped a thin steel hand over his face. He was beginning to think recruiting Betty was impossible. What could he ever say to make her join him? Everything that came to mind, she blew away and what she missed was taken care of by Bobby. Nos shot an icy glare at the boy who had occupied himself with picking a scab on his elbow. He saw Nos staring at him and he smiled and waved.

Come to think of it, why would she want to join him? Nos-4-A2 mused as he chose a floor lamp, dipped it as if in dance, and chomped into it. Electricity pulsed through his fangs and stimulated his circuits. Bobby was no longer grinning or waving, or picking even. Nos had never asked himself that question. He had never wondered about whether his slaves wanted to serve or not, or what creature would. XL had assisted him, but only so long as he thought he would be co-ruler of the improved galaxy. Betty had no such promise; was that the problem? Perhaps. Nos sought out a table lamp and drained it as well.

If Nos-4-A2 had learned anything about the universe, it was this: assistance was only given in expectancy of something in return. Existence depended on an action-reaction relationship and so there were no such things as 'selfless acts'; every honorable and dishonorable deed was performed to obtain a reward. This fact was confirmed again and again in everything he experienced and observed.

Betty again came to mind. He had already helped her finish her robot, so why would she even try to help him? She wouldn't. It was not in their biological programming. But…then if that was true, why had she helped him in the first place? He gave no promise of reward; come to think of it, why would anyone help him? The quiet, contemplative atmosphere was broken when Betty came bounding back from the kitchen. She had a bright smile spread generously across her face.

"Dad's coming home tonight!" she announced, barely able to keep from exploding with excitement.

Bobby grinned. "Wow! That's great! But I thought he wasn't supposed to be back for three days more."

"He wasn't! But he had a breakthrough with the power core and Mom said that he told his boss that if he takes it home and works on it with his own tools, he'll get it up and running the city generator by next week!"

"Boy, you have all the luck," Bobby said. "My dad hasn't been home in years."

"I know he'll come back eventually. He probably just lost track of time." Betty told him, softer than before.

"Yeah, I know." Bobby agreed, smiling again. "I can't wait to see your dad again. I don't remember: does he like toast? I could go home and get my new toaster and we can work on it so that when he gets home, there will be toast waiting for him."

"That's a nice idea, but Mom said I need to help clean. Plus, I need to teach Nos some more manners before Dad comes and sees him."

What? More manners-school? Nos-4-A2 made a sour face. What could she possibly know about manners?

"You can stay if you'd like." Betty said to Bobby as she approached Nos-4-A2.

"Ah, no thanks. I'll probably just get in the way," Bobby replied, which was his way of getting out of doing other people's chores.

"Ok," Betty shrugged. 'you can hang around if you'd like, or you can leave. Whatever."

Bobby glanced at Nos, whose eyes flashed at him. "Uh, I think I'll go tell my mom the good news." He replied, walking backwards out of the door and into the elevator. "See you later!"

"Bye!" Betty called, taking Nos-4-A2's arm. Nos jerked it away.

"How many times must I say it? Don't grab me!"

"Mom told me to vacuum the house, so I need to show you where the broom closet is." She explained.

Nos-4-A2 was taken aback. "You—you're forcing me to do what you were assigned to do?"

"I know it's not good to do—" she said.

"No, no," he smiled deviously. "It is very good to do. Finding ways to make things easier on yourself is what any smart being does." Yes! She was catching on.

Betty stopped pulling and stared at the floor in thought. "No, it's what mean people do. That's what has hurt the galaxy so bad." She let his arm drop. "You go into the kitchen and ask what you can do for my mom. I saw some dishes in the sink." She walked sullenly to a door in a dark corner. "I'll vacuum." She pulled the dark gray machine from the closet and smiled at Nos-4-A2. "You know, Nos? You're a good friend." She turned it on and set to work.

Nos-4-A2 wanted to retort with something but he could not find any sentences that would suit the situation. He was not a 'good friend'. He didn't care about friendship, in fact, it disgusted him. The only relationship he was interested in was that of slaves and masters. But nothing suitable came to mind to say, so he sighed irritably and turned towards the kitchen. It seemed the more he poisoned her, the more prominent her heroic streak became.

If I push too far, she might become another Buzz Lightyear. He thought sourly. It would be best for him to leave before he made his future any more difficult.

"And, Nos," she spoke up over the hum of the vacuum cleaner. "I have decided that, if you behave tonight with Dad, I'll take the circuit scrambler off."

Nos-4-A2 was slack jawed for a moment, as he turned to Betty. So soon? "Honestly?" he inquired. She nodded and stooped to vacuuming underneath the coffee table.

He turned back to face the kitchen and rubbed his hands together happily, allowing a quiet chuckle of triumph to pass his lips. Everything was falling into place. He would perform for the father, his inhibitor would be removed and then early in the morning, after his charge was complete but before anyone awoke, he would drain the new power cell and take off. Ah ha! It was so simple, so quick, and so brilliant!

At sunset, once the house was as clean as it could become with the Dekas' income, Betty and Nos-4-A2 went upstairs to her room to watch for the arrival of the taxicraft that would bring Mr. Deka – and the generator power supply – home.

Betty was sitting on the windowsill, dangling her feet out of the open window. Nos-4-A2 hovered close by, stooped ever so slightly to watch the hovercars zooming by. For once in her life, betty was silent the entire hour they waited. Nos was pleasantly surprised.

She gasped and leaned further out of the window. "There's a taxicraft!" she exclaimed. "It's probably Dad!"

Nos spotted it as well. "It could be anyone," he stated.

"No, it's him." Betty persisted.

Nos-4-A2 shrugged; it didn't really matter to him whether it was or not. As it came closer, though, he began to wonder if she was right. The taxicraft stopped at their suspended door and a man with a large suitcase and a bag slung over his shoulder, stepped onto the wide concrete step. Nos hated being proven wrong by a little girl.

"Dad!" she squealed in delight and waved out the window at him. He saw her and waved back.

"Betty!" he called happily. "How are you, my angel? I missed you so much!"

"I got a housebot!" Betty told him hurriedly, grabbing Nos-4-A2's arm and yanking him partway out of the window.

"Wow! He's great! I'll talk to you more once I'm inside I need to get this power cell into the shop before I drop it." He patted the large suitcase.

Nos-4-A2 squinted. That was it? That was the new power cell? He had pictured it larger; much larger. Well, power didn't necessarily depend on size.

Betty spun around on the windowsill and jumped to the floor. She grabbed Nos by the arm and took off out the door and down the stairs. They were half way down when Betty's mother opened the door and helped Mr. Deka inside. Betty ran to her father, still pulling Nos-4-A2 behind her. Nos tried to stop, but when the two fleshlings embraced, he was slammed into the father.

Nos-4-A2 pushed away from him, pulled away from Betty, and brushed himself off in disgust, separating the two carbon creatures. Humans were so clumsy. Betty's father rubbed his sore arm and grinned sheepishly at Nos.

"You certainly pack a punch," he commented.

Betty ceased her smiling at her dad for a second as she threw a reminding glance at Nos-4-A2. He smiled suavely.

"Why thank you," he bowed graciously.

Mr. Deka looked at Nos-4-A2, Betty and then his wife. "He certainly is a sophisticated – not to mention expensive – looking robot. Where did she find him?"

"Out on the street with Bobby. She fixed him up all by herself." She whispered back.

"That was nice, Nos." Betty whispered. "Keep it up."

Mrs. Deka draped her arms over Mr. Deka's shoulders and pecked him on the lips. "I missed you, honey."

"I missed you too." He said, kissing her full on the mouth.

Nos-4-A2 scratched his temple. _Disgusting._

Mr. Deka glanced over and blushed slightly, at seeing his daughter and her robot still standing there.

"Well," he concluded, with an embarrassed chuckle, as he and his wife separated. "I'd better get this stuff into the shop." He took the handle of the large suitcase, as his wife disappeared into the kitchen.

"Nos and I can take your bags into the shop." Betty offered eagerly. Nos-4-A2 wished she would stop volunteering him.

Mr. Deka's smile disappeared in a furrowed brow. He stared at Nos-4-A2 with eyes more knowledgeable and intense than before. Then the terrible thought hit Nos-4-A2 that this man might have heard of him before since he worked on the generator. This little loudmouth might give him away.

"You named him 'Nos'?" Mr. Deka inquired pleasantly.

"No," Betty explained innocently. "That's the name he came with. But his full name—"

"Where!" Nos-4-A2 cut her off loudly. "…sir, are we depositing your luggage?"

Mr. Deka seemed a little cautious and Nos-4-A2 mentally prepared to steal the remote to the circuit scrambler and escape if things went bad.

"Just in here," the man replied. "I'll lead you there." Betty snatched up the small bag and, silently, Nos took the large one.

Despite the size, it was incredibly heavy and he had to yank it across the carpeted floor even though it had wheels. He dragged it to a door in the far corner of the living room. Mr. Deka pulled a ring with nearly a hundred key cards on it and scanned five of them in five different slots. The door clicked and Mr. Deka pulled it open.

He held the door for Betty but as Nos-4-A2 approached, he grabbed the handle of the suitcase.

"I'll take it from here, Nos. Thanks." He said with a polite smile as he walked inside.

His hunch was confirmed; Mr. Deka was suspicious of him and would not trust him. Well, he didn't need to trust him, his apprehensions just needed to be tempered until he went to bed. When the ring around his waist was gone and he was fully charged, he would be powerful enough to get into the room with the power cell, even if the door was made of steel – which it was not.

Betty's father shut the door on Nos-4-A2 and the two fleshlings' voices carried to his ears. Nos didn't mind, despite having his pride banged up a little. Actually, it was probably better that he would not be able to see the power cell beforehand. The temptation would have been terrible to fight.

He crossed his arms disappearing into his cape and leaned against the wall. Just so long as Betty didn't unknowingly confirm her father's thoughts.

Betty's mother appeared in the entryway to the kitchen. "Are they in the shop?" she asked him.

"Yes."

"Oh. Well, come get the salad ready." She directed and disappeared again inside the kitchen.

Nos-4-A3 sighed irritably and pushed up from the wall. "Mph, lovely. Another job." He muttered as he glided into the kitchen.

The father and daughter remained locked up until dinner was entirely ready and on the table.

Mrs. Deka wiped her hands on a dishtowel and sighed. "Nos, go get Mr. Deka and Betty, would you please?" she said.

Nos-4-A2 was running low on energy, very hungry, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from giving this fleshling a piece of his mind. By some miracle, he managed to keep a smooth façade as he nodded and left the room to play messenger.

He stopped at the door and rapped his knuckles upon the wood. The conversation died inside and Mr. Deka called out. "Yes?"

"Dinner is on the table," Nos-4-A2 announced impatiently. While they were eating, he planned on sneaking up to Betty's room and using the charger or preying on something. It was troublesome how often he needed to refill his energy 'tank'.

"Ok," Mr. Deka answered happily. The door opened and Betty and her father walked out arm in arm, to the kitchen. Betty looked over her shoulder.

"Go ahead and wait in my room. I'll hook you up to my charger as soon as I get my food." She said.

Not that Nos-4-A2 needed help attaching himself to a charger, but it was nice to know that she hadn't forgotten. He glided towards the stairs but stopped and turned back around to the five-times locked door curiously. He so wanted to see the power cell, if only to whet his appetite. He approached the door and laid his hands and an ear against the crack, hoping to hear or feel some hum or other of electricity pulsing through it, but there was nothing.

_The girl did say he hadn't finished it yet._ Nos reminded himself. All the same, it was very alluring.

The steady growth of weights on his shoulders reminded him to get upstairs before Betty. As he moved slowly to her room, he licked his lips, imagining the power cell. Oh, what it would taste like. Oh, how the electricity would crackle sweetly upon his tongue as it coursed through his body… The wait was torture.

He went through the open door and stopped at the charger amidst piles of robot pieces. He had half a mind to start charging without her, but reasoned that it might make her mad and then she would not remove the circuit scrambler. He looked for a wall to lean against, but none were comfortably accessible, so he took to hovering awkwardly near the charger, waiting for Betty to come upstairs.

Her unfinished robot, the pride and joy of her existence, was lying against the charger with the back panel open, slouched over as if she had tried charging it. To no avail, it seemed. The robot actually was pretty well built, Nos-4-A2 admitted. It probably was complete except for the programming, since she had put the right type of wires inside for the sense of touch this morning. Actually, it wouldn't take too much effort to finish.

Nos-4-A2 bent over and took the cold metal girl in his hands and stared into its dark eyes. He had always enjoyed programming – though he doubted if he could use motherboard suggestion with this one. Still, it would give him something to do while he waited for the girl.

Nos-4-A2 sat on the bed with the robot on his lap and opened up the back panel in the head. The right wires were there, but they weren't connected to the right places.

"Ah," he said, "Here's the problematic one." He pinched the rubber coating open and released the copper wires. He twisted them around separated knobs on the motherboard. He switched two wires and removed three entirely. Then there was only one thing left to do; the tactic Betty would have never been able to do and so the robot would have never recognized its personality program; one thousand volts of electricity sent directly into a small hole in the motherboard. Even if her charger had been strong enough, there would be no way she could get such a precise and pointed stream; only the most advanced manufacturing plants were capable of such a feat…and he. What were one thousand volts to him? A meal? By the time he was done charging, he would have over twenty times that racing through his body—

Nos-4-A2 jerked. Where had that notion come from? Why would he give up a thousand volts? That was ridiculous. Against his programming. No.

He pushed the robot off of himself and it landed hard on the wood floor. Ridiculous. Nos-4-A2 drummed his fingers on his metal lap, the clicking sounds resounding in the quiet room. He stared at the shelves lining the walls for a while and then lay back onto the bed; he stared at the ceiling. What was taking Betty so long? If he didn't have the circuit scrambler pinning him there, he would have started charging already. In fact, he would have left the morning he woke up. His body felt heavier and more sluggish. Had she forgotten to come up as soon as she "got her food"?

Ten minutes passed. _Yes, she has._ He thought.

"Mmph." He crackled in frustration. He was so hungry, and bored as well. _What would truly be a joyride is if I found something to hunt and feast upon. Now _that_ would hit the spot._ His mind wandered to the lifeless robot by the charger and his motherboard began to spark in new ways. Wouldn't it be fun to bring it to life, let it run around a while, and then drain it again? That negligent girl, Betty, would never know it had ever been activated.

Nos-4-A2 sat up and set the robot on his lap. He opened the panel in the head that had been slammed shut when it had fallen and stuck the tip of his smallest finger delicately into the hole.

_I'll lose a thousand volts, but I'll get them back along with some satisfaction._ He told himself as he released a thousand volts of electricity through the tip of his pinkie. The robot buzzed and vibrated. When it was finished, Nos-4-A2 removed his hand, closed the panel, and flipped the switch on the back of the neck.

At first, nothing happened, and Nos-4-A2 was worried that he had just wasted a thousand volts of his energy, but then its inward parts began to hum and light came into its eyes. Slowly, it looked around the room and then at Nos. It began to make strange sounds with its voice box, but eventually it would learn how to form words. Too bad it wouldn't live that long. Nos-4-A2 set it on its feet and pushed it a little.

"Well, go on," he prodded impatiently…he felt heavier than ever. "Run around."

The robot looked as confused as possible with the smile painted on its face.

Nos-4-A2 wiped a hand over his face. He made twirling motions in the air. "Run around the room, you piece of junk!"

It cocked its head and made more strange noises.

He motioned in circles faster. "RUN AROUND!" he bellowed.

The robot began to twirl in circles. _Stupid thing. Catching a twirling robot is no fun. I've invested one thousand volts into this chase; I want to chase something!_

"No, stop." Nos-4-A2 commanded. "Go around the room." He pointed to the walls, but the robot was still spinning and couldn't see. "No, around the room! The room! Not in little circles, you—"

"Nos!" came a delighted exclamation.

Nos-4-A2 peered around the ridiculous, spinning machine and saw Betty standing – and practically glowing – in the doorway. She ran inside.

"You brought her to life! Oh Nos! Thank you _so_ much! Now we have another friend to play with and help my mom with the chores!"

Nos-4-A2 'stood' and crossed his arms smugly to the robot. So, it would be doomed to a world of chores. Ha. He was glad he brought it to life after all.

"Hey!" Betty called to her robot as she groped for one of its arms. Finally she caught one and it stopped spinning, to look at the new face. It pointed at Nos-4-A2 and related the story in its strange language. He was glad it couldn't form words. Betty didn't care that it didn't speak. She happily grabbed its hands and smiled up at it.

"Don't worry, I'll teach you how to speak. I'll teach you all kinds of things. But first, I want to show you to Mom and Dad!" she grabbed a hold of its wrist and was pulling it towards the hall when Nos-4-A2 made a sound that mimicked clearing his throat.

"The charger?" he added.

"Oh!" Betty exclaimed running back to the charger and unwinding the cables. "Sorry about that, Nos, I just got so excited that my robot really works that I forgot your dinner!" She motioned for him to sit on the floor, which he did, and she connected the cables to his fangs and tongue.

"I'll see you soon, Nos. I need to go eat my dinner and show my mom and dad Rosie." She said, turning on the charger. "Bye!" She left.

Nos-4-A2 inwardly sighed serenely. Charging felt so good. Not quite as exciting as hunting, but it did have a certain relaxing quality about it. Plus, it was like a refrigerator where one could take energy from whenever one was hungry. He concentrated on absorbing energy as fast as he could without destroying the machine. He would need to be as strong as possible in order for tonight to succeed.

* * *

A/N: The next chapter is the last! Are you all excited for it? I know exactly how it will play out, so it should be up pretty soon. I am so glad I got back into writing this. And thanks again for the awesome review, Ckret2, it really got me going again. I hope you have been enjoying this short journey with Nos-4-A2 and the annoying little fleshlings he's stuck with. Stay tuned.

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	10. C: 10

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C: 10

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It was about ten o'clock when Betty returned to her room. She opened the door a crack and squeezed herself and her robot into her room. Nos-4-A2 chuckled calmly when she closed the door.

"I don't sleep." He told her. Though the room was dark, he saw her turn in surprise. She exhaled shortly.

"Of course you don't," she replied. "But I thought you hibernated and I didn't want to disturb you."

"I don't hibernate often." He stated.

"Oh." She set the robot on her bed, kissed it goodnight and turned it off. It went limp and she laid it gently at the end of the bed.

"Well, since you're up, do you want me to take the circuit scrambler off now?"

Nos-4-A2 sighed heavily. "Finally!" He didn't add the choice language he had on his tongue. If he had, she probably wouldn't have freed him.

Betty smiled and went to her desk. She illuminated a lamp and dug through the top drawer. Nos-4-A2 looked on impatiently; he didn't like watching someone scramble for tools to work on him; it reminded him too much of when he was being built by Zurg, helpless and dependent. The dim lighting, his position… everything added to the effect.

_Oh hurry up._ He moaned internally.

"Found it!" Betty announced holding a strange-looking ratchet. She approached him and began working at the tiny bolts on the inhibiting machine.

"You know, Nos," she began. "Thanks for being so good today. You really helped me and my mom with the house, and you weren't too mean; just a little. And you fixed my robot! I had pretty much given up on it ever coming to life." The circuit scrambler snapped open and Betty removed it. Nos-4-A2 immediately felt the cannals of energy to his lower half flow more freely.

"And you didn't eat the generator power cell. I know that was hard for you. Thanks. I don't know what we would do if my dad couldn't finish it. He would probably lose his job and we'd lose our house. So, thanks so much." She wrapped her arms around Nos-4-A2's shoulders and he stiffened. "You're a great friend, Nos, even if you are our housebot. Sweet…uh… hibernation. Since you should hibernate. You'll charge faster. Goodnight!" She squeezed him and then got up, turned out the lamp and crawled into bed.

Nos-4-A2 stared blankly at the opposite wall. That was unexpected. No one had ever dared to do that. No one had ever showed so much affection for him. Well, Zurg had, but it was more an affection to his power than to Nos himself. This girl, this…this _fleshling_, liked him. But why? Why would any creature like him for himself? His programming offered no answer, because it was impossible. Perhaps she treated him that way because she wanted him to perform for her in the future. But, no, that didn't make sense. She never commanded him to do anything but housework and surely housebots didn't need mental trickery to make them do things; surely the girl knew that. How could this girl understand so much, and yet so little?

Was it possible to be kind without a goal in mind?

Nos-4-A2 had plenty of time to ponder, since he wouldn't even being to stir until three. He continued to suck power hungrily into his body, just barely restraining himself from overwhelming the charger, and thought intensely about this phenomenon.

When the world was silent and cold from the rain that had been striking it since midnight, Nos-4-A2 slowly detached himself from the charger. He wrapped the wires around it and held it in his arms as he stood. Keeping the charger was a very good idea, in case worst came to worst again and he couldn't find food. His body felt full of power and he was itching to use it to zoom somewhere or blast something.

He swiftly left Betty's room and floated down the hall, down the stairs, into the living room and up to the five-times locked door. Beyond it was the most powerful machine he had ever encountered. Oh, how it would taste! And getting inside would be so easy.

He set the charger on the floor and punched both fists through the center of the door. He pulled them apart and traced a hole for himself. He pushed the detached piece of wood inside and flew trough the hole.

The room was pitch black and cold. Nos-4-A2's red eyes lit it up, though, and he could see what was important. Lying on a table in the middle of the cramped room was the generator power cell – capable of powering all of Tradeworld for an unimaginable length of time.

Nos-4-A2 hovered to it slowly, as if it might zoom away if he startled it. He bared his fangs and the end of his tongue sparked. He wondered what it would feel like to hold so much power. Perhaps it would gie him enough energy to conquor Tradeworld – for starters, anyway. He gripped the sleek, silver machine and pulled closer to it.

_"I don't know what we would do if my dad couldn't finish it. He'd probably lose his job and we'd lose our house. So, thanks so much."_

Something inside him dropped. Not literally, but it sure felt like it. He shook it off.

_What do you care if the fleshlings lose their house? You've never had a house._ He growled to himself. He reached closer, but then the uncomfortable feeling in his center ached again.

The realization hit him like a brick; he wasn't hungry. But he was always hungry! …Even so, the power cell didn't look so tasty anymore.

_"So, thanks so much."_

"You're ridiculous, Nos, old boy! Eat it already!" His fangs clacked on the smooth, cool surface, but they never went in. He tried several times to insert them, but failed.

He slowly released the machine and straightened up. Well, anomaly or not, if he wasn't hungry, he wasn't hungry. There was no use in forcing himself to eat. He crawled out of the hole in the door and picked up the charger. He opened the window on the far wall and soared out into the empty, crisp air.

Nos-4-A2 zoomed higher and higher until he was above the smog and even above the tips of the tallest buildings, where the stars shone brightly.

Why hadn't he drained the power cell? It was entirely against his programming. Could it possibly be because, if he had, the one who took him in would have been left destitute? Destroyed?

Nos-4-A2 smirked cunningly.

"Certainly not,"

he assured himself.

"…I simply was not hungry."

The End

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End file.
